My daughter suggested I write a blog on “something to do with correlations and causality in regards to the current state of the world or politics.” She raises a very high bar for me, which is probably more a reflection of her regard for her father than any real talent I possess. Amongst my 3,000+ subscribers, none have made specific requests other than “keep writing.” So her suggestion, while exposing my limitations, has elicited the following thoughts.
To begin, we owe the term “politics” to the Greeks (polis, “city state,” related to polites, “citizen”). The Greek city states were formed in the 10th century, BC. One can argue that political philosophy started in Athens in the 5th century, BC, with Socrates, Plato and Aristotle. The practice of politics, or the art of persuasion, was practiced with great fervor at the time by the Sophists. (Like modern politicians, they were masters of twisted logic.) But even before there was the term “politics,” humans organized into collectives to preserve their way of life and to survive in a dangerous world. Whereas most animal species procreate and protect themselves in some form of collective—herds, prides, flocks, etc.—humans require a special form of collective that allows them to fairly and safely go about the business of being human, to include working, playing, creating, and procreating. This need to form a collective is the impetus to form governments and their underlying cause.
The current state of politics bears a generic similarity with the past. Humans have always organized into groups with common interests: communities of like familial, ethnic, or cultural bonds. And these communities require some kind of enforceable structure, implying a locus of power. History shows a progression in that power structure. Perhaps it started with the strongest caveman who could lead the hunt for food, assure social order within the collective, and protect his family or tribe from danger. Certainly, the shaman assumed this role with his/her (yes, there were female shamans) ability to communicate with the forces of nature and exercise seemingly magical powers to guide his/her people and even to cure them of their ills. Following the shamans were god-like kings, pharaohs, and emperors. In subsequent civilizations, the theological underpinnings of divinely endowed leaders were preserved in religiously inspired doctrines of “the divine right of kings” and of the infallibility of Popes and Caliphs. As populations grew under these powerful figureheads, their power was increasingly shared with nobles, bishops and emirs. Gradually, this divinely sanctioned power became secular and evolved into Europe’s feudal systems which included both clerical and aristocratic control over land, wealth and people. The hoi polloi, or common people, were governed with little or no control over the means of their governance. Though they lived in a well-ordered society, today we would likely characterize their lives as indentured servitude. The people who lived in these earlier political organizations probably appear stunted to our contemporaries in the 21st century. Nevertheless, they experienced a certain degree of security inasmuch as they fit into an established system with a fixed destiny. However mean or destitute might be their living conditions, their system of government was predictable and probably experienced as unalterable.
Over two hundred years ago the nature of political organizations changed drastically as a result of the American and French revolutions. The concept of government “of the people, by the people and for the people” came into vogue with the birth of republicanism or representative democracies. The following centuries witnessed many new dynamic democracies. But what really changed was the very fabric of society. Citizens of modern democracies have a stake in government and a consequent responsibility. Previously silenced factions became part of the national discourse on matters of governance. But with open discourse come discord and the birth of pluralism in government. Living in a pluralist democracy is therefore a special kind of challenge. One cannot always have his/her way, neither in private or public life. Whereas the acquiescence required in a feudal, theocratic, or monarchical system was prescribed, citizens in modern democracies have individual rights and must develop the ability to respect the rights and perspectives of others. The homogeneous experience lived by citizens of a small city-state like ancient Athens, has no relation to our contemporary democratic republics composed of millions. The average American, for example, may have neighbors of a different cultural a/o ethnic background. Also, local communities develop significant political differences with other groups and communities. A West coast liberal, for instance, will not vote like a Deep South conservative. Even a Party devotee is not likely to agree with every component of his/her Party platform. This type of dissonance is magnified today by our interconnected communication systems. As a result, even in the recidivist totalitarian regimes, this political discord is ever present and is a characteristic corollary of modern day governments.
Political discord is the underlying tension both within and without the several Western democracies: federalism versus states’ rights; popular mandates versus delegate empowerment; totalitarian regimes versus democracies; international coalitions versus rogue states; theocracy versus “modernity”; centrally managed economies versus free markets; cultural identity versus pluralism; and so on. Complicating this tension is the role capitalism plays in democracies. Whereas unfettered capitalism seems to be a corollary of personal freedom, it can be destructive of the very freedom it advocates. Its destructive ability was well diagnosed in the 19th century, witnessed and addressed by American Presidents for most of the 20th century, and now in the 21st century universally recognized as the core problem in what is often referred to as income and wealth inequality. Although world poverty has been significantly reduced by free trade and emerging markets, the divide between the “haves and have nots” has widened. By some analyses, 85 families now have accumulated more wealth than 50% of the world’s population. Here in America, .1% of the population is said to control 60% of the nation’s wealth and nearly all of the income benefits from recent advancements in productivity. The world’s democracies are struggling to maintain the balance between individual and moneyed interests. To the extent this balance continues to favor international corporations and the growing billionaire class, the tension and discord will intensify.
The worldwide disparity in wealth has also affected democratic institutions. Here in America, for instance, a single billionaire can finance his own election. Two brothers have spent billions financing local, state, and national elections in order to maintain their influence over government policies, specifically policies favoring their core energy business. American firms spend over $3 billion a year on lobbying Congress. While wages stagnant, international corporations store between $800 billion and $1 trillion in offshore tax havens made lawful by a dutiful Congress. The health care and technology industries help Congress write exclusive patent laws that make these financial sectors among the most profitable in America. These are just a few examples of a broader enterprise to infiltrate the institutions of government. Unless thwarted, they will transform a representative democracy into a financial oligarchy, not unlike the feuding aristocracies democracies replaced. Perhaps unwittingly, they are destroying the public’s faith in the institutions created to serve their interests. More than the fomenting of public discord is at stake here, but the very fate of democracy itself.
Could it be that we are at another inflection point in human history? Has the experiment with democracy run its course? Perhaps it is time to reflect on the nature of democracy, the reason it has been advanced, and the measures required to preserve it.
Democracy implies a degree of individual freedom. And freedom implies risks and responsibility. For example, it requires tolerance of unfamiliar types of people and of competing ideals. Tolerance then presents a constant challenge to the natural desire for familiar and stable experiences. Nevertheless, it is necessary for civility to exist instead of prejudice and close-mindedness. At times it may appear to be an unwelcome corollary to modern democracies. But without tolerance of the rights of others, there can be no justice. Religious orthodoxy or totalitarian states can enforce uniformity and pose as just systems. But they do not determine individual morality. A former Republican nominee for President once said, “You can’t legislate (sic) morality.” He was right, of course, because morality must be lived to be real. But laws do reflect the moral values of the governed, at least that is the code followed by democracies. So he was equally wrong as well. No democratic government can exist for long without a robust system of justice that reflects the basic values of that democracy. A good example of these values is the rights defined in the American Constitution. Even America’s failures reinforce these values. Slavery, Jim Crow laws, and residual prejudice not only endangered the freedom and basic rights of African Americans but also the viability of American democracy. The fundamental principle of any democracy is the guarantee of personal freedom. Tolerance is the operating premise of that guarantee. It is, therefore, integral to the nature of any democracy.
It may appear that a democracy merely has to regroup around its founding principles in order to secure its future. But our experience with democracies has taught us more. America, as the oldest democracy, is not some fantastical utopia where its inhabitants feel secure and comfortable with their individual destinies. In the real America, there is insecurity, even fear. We Americans are not shielded from birth to grave by a singular philosophy or mythology that everybody serves and that promises our future with some degree of certainty. Not only is America not ancient Athens, but it is not the Holy Roman Empire either. Everything is at risk in our constitutionally defined political structure and society. America is in its essence an evolving enterprise. Its citizens must have the courage to face a future that they actively or inadvertently create, including the unwelcome consequences of laws or disastrous foreign policy decisions they may have supported. The success of a democracy is less the result of its flawless performance than of the wisdom gained from its mistakes. Democracies are not static collectives. They must evolve or die. Why else do Americans have this constant debate between conservativism and liberalism—between our past and present values? From the very beginning, America has struggled to “form a more perfect Union.”
Would Hamilton have recognized our modern capitalistic system? He would probably shudder at its current struggle with inequality. Could Lincoln have envisioned an African American President in the White House? Perhaps he would be less surprised by those who question the qualifications of this President. Can anybody today imagine America’s future? There was a time here in Northern California when a Miwok Indian shared a common experience and future with everyone in his/her tribe. That Indian was secure in his expectations for both the nature of his life and its destiny. In modern day America, our security is something we manage on a daily basis, else we lose it altogether. When our politicians remind us of our insecurities and scare us with impending doom and gloom, they are merely triggering instincts that our indigenous to Americans. Our system of government stands against centuries of political structures whose security was defined by rule of unquestioned authority, a fixed ideology, and/or an ethnic/cultural identity. America’s security, by contrast, consists in less tangible elements: acceptance of our differences, commitment to those common principles I often quote from our Constitution’s Preamble, a fair assessment of our failures, and a willingness to work together towards a future that better exemplifies our founding principles.
The measure of any form of government should be how well it takes care of its citizens. The causal chain in the development of political systems is a journey through organizational structures that provide security and identity for groups of people—tribes, city states, empires, and nations. Democracies are a special class, however, inasmuch as they maintain themselves in flux, necessitating constant efforts to manage the stability of their political structures. When our politicians address the issues of our time, they offer widely different solutions. To the extent they can find a common path forward to benefit their electorate, they move the country towards new horizons. Correlated with democracy’s special status then are ongoing adaptations to the needs of the majority and to the values of succeeding generations. In a perfect world, this correlation allows a democracy to evolve and adapt to the needs of its people and to any outside threats to its interests a/o existence. In the world we actually inhabit, however, democracies face many serious internal threats. Previous blogs have addressed the problems of power hungry operatives, of leadership unresponsive to the will of the majority, of insensitivity to minorities or the disadvantaged, and of Machiavellian manipulation of the American electoral system to the benefit of the rich and powerful. At the core of these threats is the problem of personal destiny or of how well contemporary democracies care for their citizens’ present and future prospects. If you are born in East Harlem or South Central Los Angeles, for example, your future may be no less determined than a serf in the feudal system of the past. The same may be said for segregated ethnic conclaves in Europe. Instead, you should have the same access to a public education and a safe environment as any member of a gated community. Western democracies cannot truly be democratic until their systems provide equal opportunity for all their citizens. That opportunity in America is integral to the clarion promise of our independence from monarchy, specifically the declaration of certain unalienable rights of “Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness.”
America may be the oldest democracy in the world. But it is still a work in progress. Like the other democracies, it must deal with many threats from anachronistic forces both within and without that merely want to reestablish the embellishment of the few over the impoverishment of the many. Its success continues to be its ability to preserve, reform, and adapt its identity to a changing world.